Sonic Strikeforce
by Dee Arris
Summary: My own personal interpretation of the Sonic universe, with a few homages to popular versions. In our current story, Sonic and his Freedom Fighters attack a Badnik processing plant in the Metropolis Zone, but devious Doctor Robotnik has other ideas.
1. Sonic and the Freedom Fighters

**SONIC STRIKEFORCE**

Based on the series created by

Yuji Naka, Sonic Team, SEGA, _et al_.

* * *

**Story 1**

"**SONIC GOES METAL"**

**Act 1**

"**Sonic and the Freedom Fighters"**

* * *

**[Opening titles:** _"Invincible" _by Tomoyo Ohtani / _Sonic the Hedgehog 2006_**]**

**xxx**

Bark the Polar Bear lowered his night-vision binoculars.

"All right," he said, "the boys are in position. They're just waiting for the signal. Ray, how long?"

Ray was a diminutive flying squirrel with bright yellow fur. He was sitting in the back of the van, buried up to his waist in cables and surrounded by machines. A laptop was open across his folded legs. He did not look up. "One sec, Bark. Looks like Robotnet's received a new patch update. I need to adapt to the new security system. Trying to find a backdoor past the encryptions."

"So are we in trouble?" Bark growled. "Should I radio the others to get out before they're seen?"

"Nope," said Ray. He tapped, 'enter,' and the laptop emitted a gentle beeping tone. "I'm in. Hazelnuts, baby. Hazelnuts." He did a little wavy dance with his arms, then went back to typing. "The Badniks in the facility are controlled by a transmitter at the top. Short-range. They're not meant to go any further than the outer grounds. I'm going to confuse their orders, clear the way to the cells. I can send them all to the eastern wing and get them to turn their guns on each other."

"No," said Bark. "Send them, fine, but there are people inside."

"It'll only be a matter of time until they realise what's happened," said Ray. "The system will notice an error eventually. They'll be back, and they'll be mad. We should take them out. Make the job easier for all of us."

"And what if we'd made the same decision when you were in the same position?" Bark asked, then before he could register Ray's fallen expression, returned to the matter at hand. "Can you deactivate them?"

"Not without shutting off life support," said the squirrel, "but give me a few minutes and I might have a present for them. Little something I've been working on the past couple of days."

"Fine," said Bark. He depressed the transmit switch on his walkie-talkie. "White to Blue, do you copy? Over."

"Orange to White," came the response. "Blue's kind of occupied. Over."

Bark cursed under his breath. He should have expected this. His second-in-command was pathologically incapable of awaiting his signal. He probably had a note from his psychiatrist about it somewhere at headquarters.

"White to Orange," he said, "what's your status? Over."

"Orange to White. We're inside. Badniks spotted us. Only a handful. The rest seem to have abandoned their posts. Yellow's work? Over."

"White to Orange, that's an affirmative. Continue as planned. Already contacted Brown, she's holding her position in _Freebird_. Over."

"Copy that. Anything else?"

"That's it. Keep in touch. Out."

Bark picked up his binoculars again.

**xxx**

Miles Prower watched in awe as the Badniks fell in half, sliced apart by the whirling blade that was boomeranging through the hallway. He had seen the display plenty of times by now, but it always amazed him. Dazed Mobian victims writhed in the remains of their broken metal shells, and once he was able to wave the stars out of his eyes, Prower set to the benign task of helping them to the door. The path they had taken this far in was cleared. The freed prisoners could hide until they were rescued. The blade stopped at the point where the hall crossed over with an adjacent one, turned, and rolled back towards him. It came to a stop, changing instantly from being merely a shape to a figure. One with huge, streamlined quills down its back, blazing green eyes, and lips that constantly curled into an arrogant smirk. Prower reported the last conversation to him.

"Well, I didn't see any more malingerers," said the blue blur. "In future we should tell Ray not to bother. It's not as fun this way. Let's have the layout again, Tails."

"Right, Sonic," replied the younger animal, pulling a folded sheet of paper from the thick brush of one of his curiously twinned tails. He opened the sheet and pointed to an image on it. "We're here in the west sector. Ground floor. We want basement two. That's where the prisoners are kept. Basement one is the plant itself, where they're processed. Lifts are here, here and here." He tapped three points on the map.

"Let's go, then," said Sonic, turning again and heading onwards. "I want to sort this out and get to Ace's before it shuts."

Tails sighed, stowed the map away, and followed him. With Ray sending who knew how many confusing signals to keep the Badniks off-kilter, it was embarrassingly easy to reach the lifts. Sonic was gifted with a kind of athleticism that defied logic, but he held himself back just enough to trip the targeting sensors in the security cameras, and while their attention was fixed on his vapour trail, Tails went to work with a pair of wire cutters, killing the video feeds. Before too long, they had blinded the sector, plunging the already disarrayed robotic staff into even further chaos. They found the lift doors all locked down, but Sonic promptly sliced them wide open with a spin of his quills, and down they went. They landed on the roof of the lift, which had stopped halfway between basement levels.

"This isn't a problem," said Tails. "I mean, you can cut through this, right? We can bypass the plant and go right down to the cells using the shaft."

"Sure," replied Sonic. "I'll do that, but you go ahead. I'll be hanging back for a bit."

"What?"

"I said I wasn't having enough fun, didn't I?"

"You also said you wanted to get the job done quick so you could go to Ace's."

"Yeah," Sonic nodded, "but I want to make it worth it. Gotta build up the old hunger a bit."

Tails gawped at him. Sonic grinned in response, and with near-supernatural control that defied Tails' understanding of the laws of physics, cut open more holes in the roof and floor of the lift, then he primed himself like a pistol on the doors of basement level one. "Go on, then," he said. "Get a shift on. Don't worry, I'll catch up to you."

**xxx**

Ray swore.

"What's the matter?" asked Bark.

"I got cut off," the squirrel reported.

"What do you mean you got cut off? The system found you already?"

"What? Mobius, no. It's this shoddy wired set-up. Connection's dropped. I need to re-establish it before I can finish what I'm doing," said Ray, talking and checking plugs and cables almost as quickly as the blue hedgehog moved. "You know we should dip into our bank account and see if we can't at least get ourselves a decent nutting Wi-Fi router in here. Needs less gear so it wouldn't be so cramped in the back."

"Hey, can you focus just for a second, Ray?" Bark growled. "Is the security grid going to do something like seal them inside and electrify the floors?"

"Not yet. I'm giving the signal some extra juice, so I should be able to get back in before they go into total emergency lockdown," Ray grumbled. "The Badniks, though, they might be a problem. The admin computer that streams commands to them is separate from security. Robotnet's irritating that way. Instead of one big cyber-brain running the place, it's more like a cluster of little brains. Now I've been removed from the equation temporarily, it'll reboot in diagnostic mode and the Badniks will reset to their default operating parameters until it's finished."

"Can you say that in terms I understand, Ray?" Bark sighed, exasperated.

"The 'bots know the lads aren't where I put them. They'll spread out and go hunting. It's nuts. They should be equipped with some kind of safe mode for when the collar's taken off them. It's almost a routine practise!"

"Since when did Ivo Robotnik care about anyone's safety?" said Bark, and he jammed the switch on his walkie-talkie so hard it almost broke. "White to Blue and Orange, we're experiencing a setback. Take cover and wait for us to fix it. Blue and Orange, do you copy?"

**xxx**

Sonic did not copy. He was too occupied with what awaited him when he emerged from the lift shaft. No less than a dozen robots, in all manner of outlandish shapes and colour schemes, rolled and floated and crawled towards him from either end of the hallway. He braced himself, knees bent, arms pulled in tight and crooked at the elbows, fists clenched.

"Priority alpha-one: hedgehog, confirmed," said one Badnik, lifting its particle emitter gun. "Orders to capture on sight." The other machines began chorusing the statement, charging their own respective weapons and tightening their targeting reticules on the hedgehog.

"Yeah, we're not gonna do that," Sonic replied, matter-of-factly. "What we're gonna do is…" He opted not to finish the sentence. Instead, he bounced into the air and curled into a ball. His quills seemed to stiffen and harden, fuse together and turn him into a large, blue morning star. Tongues of cyan energy rolled off him and leapt into the air, exploding like tiny fireworks and forcing the robots to leap about to avoid them. Those who were unlucky would be the first to fall. _**"Sonic Homing Attack!"**_ the hedgehog cried, voice distorted by his rapid rotation, and slammed into the face of the first Badnik with the force of a meteorite. The machine crumpled, its face concave, and accidentally fired off a shot that struck a second Badnik across the shoulder, severing its arm.

Sonic took note of the brutal intensity of the blast. He was confident he could move faster than they could shoot, even in the confines of the hall, but it meant he would have to maintain his current speed until they were all down. Luckily, he was well practised. Inertia meant nothing to him. He zeroed in on the second Badnik, knocking it over, then went on to the rest, weaving through their laser-fire, and soon no less than five Badniks were reduced to piles of smoking scrap metal. He uncurled and dropped to the floor to avoid intercepting shots from the seventh, eighth and ninth Badniks. Tightly condensed waves of blue excess energy rushed out to either side of him, denting the walls with ashy silhouette stains. The remaining Badniks, the sixth through twelfth, surrounded him, guns humming with energy.

"Surrender," said the sixth, who seemed to have taken over initiative since the defeat of the first. "Our orders dictate that you may be taken alive to His Imminent Genius in custody. You are not required to die."

"If, _'His Imminent Genius,'_ wants me," the hedgehog replied, "then he can peel himself out of his chair and come get me himself!" His hand went to the belt he was wearing, upon which was a set of three switches from left to right, and in order, blue, yellow and red. He ran his thumb over the yellow switch. _**"Lightning Shield on!"**_ he declared, and his entire body, from his spike-tips to his shoes, was engulfed in a bubble of coursing electricity. Gold and silver tendrils of power curled and waved between him and the machines. Laser-bolts bounced off the force-field as Sonic propelled a super-charged fist into the chin of the nearest Badnik, then hopped into the air to knock down the next with a flying kick. The force-field lasted only a few moments, but it was ample enough time for the hedgehog to throw off the robots, the last of whom fell under each other's blasts. Within each evil machine was a black, egg-shaped container, and Sonic sliced them open, releasing the animals trapped inside.

That was when Sonic copied.

"This is Blue," he said into the walkie, "I had my hands full for a few secs. What was that, White? Over."

"Ray got cut off," crackled Bark's voice, "but he's working to get back in. Sounds like you've already seen the results first-hand." A muffled second voice said something. "He's reconnected," said White, "but the encryptions have changed. Camera link shows there's a group waiting at the door. Nothing on the prison floor yet, but there could be-"

"Too long, no time, White," Sonic interrupted. "If any Badniks reach the prison, Tails and anyone he gets out can handle them. You can meet the ones I'm sending up at the doors. Put those big old ham-hands of yours to use, okay?"

"What? And what are you planning to do in the meantime?" asked Bark.

"Going to find the place's computer-brain and fry it."

"Sonic, wait!" Bark protested. "Stick to the plan!"

**xxx**

Bark snarled and crushed the walkie.

"Reckless…" he muttered. "How long, Ray?"

"One, maybe two layers of encryption to go, and I'll be back in control," said Ray.

"You already broke the encryptions," said Bark. "Shouldn't that part be easy?"

"It's changed. Must be part of the new patch. I'll have it again in little under a minute."

"Better be," said the polar bear, and opened the door of the van.

"Where are you going?"

"You heard the hedgehog. He's sending more up through the front. I'm going to clear the way. Radio _Freebird_. I want the prisoners aboard as soon as they're out." He headed across the street, all the time growling about how Sonic's decision to cause as much destruction as possible would alert exactly the people they wanted to avoid. Whether or not Ray could block any outgoing electronic signals, it would definitely be noticed when something smack-dab in the middle of the Metropolis Zone went boom. Things often did when Sonic decided to work outside the lines, and Bark mentally kicked himself for even imagining the renegade's involvement could go any way resembling agreeable.

A Badnik was waiting in the doorway with its back to him. One of the newer models, he guessed. It was egg-shaped, with spindly limbs and a domed head that could twist three-hundred-and-sixty degrees. Beady, red eyes peered out. It carried a double-handed light-rifle. The Eggrobo emitted a beeping tone and turned around, and three more identical machines appeared beside it.

"Priority alpha-two: polar bear identified," it spoke. "Orders are immediate destruction. Do not take into custody."

"If you tin cans are going to shoot someone," Bark sneered, charging at full tilt towards them like an uncontrollable juggernaut, "then shoot them! Don't talk about it!" Laser-bolts singed his fur. Bark might have been slow compared to Sonic, but he was big, he was tough, and when he was mad, he did not notice pain so much. He charged on through the assault, wrapped his arms around the first Eggrobo, and cracked it open. He hurled the remains into the second, knocking away its rifle. He then grabbed its wrists, tore its arms out of their sockets and jammed them through the machine's face. He finished that one off with a kick to the chest. Bark was growling the whole time, and released a ferocious roar as he turned his sights on the third robot. It squeezed off a shot, and the laser burnt through Bark's thick shoulder. Bark ripped its eyes out seconds after. It began to fire wildly, as if in panic. The polar bear hit the ground, his fur smoking, but not out of the fight. He clamped his fists around the robot's ankles and hauled them out from under it. The Eggrobo crashed onto its back, and ripped it apart up the middle, spilling its sticky, sickly sweet-smelling internal fluid in every direction. He was about to look for the fourth, when agony coursed throughout his entire body. The final Eggrobo had taken advantage of his prone position to activate its internal jet-pack and take to the air, giving it a perfect shot to unfurl an electrified net that now pinned the bear and the three animals released from inside its fellows. It was now hovering lower, eyes glistening wickedly. Bark felt the cold barrel of the weapon press against his skull, felt the heat building, heard the whirr and click as the robot prepared to incinerate his brains. He tried to move, but the net had attacked his nervous system, paralysing him.

"Preparing to execute," the Eggrobo said, but then, it did not. Bark opened his eyes, and saw the machine's eyes cross as it blasted its own head open.

"Like I said," Bark murmured, "don't talk about it."

Ray came running with a pair of pliers and rubber gloves on, and he cut the net open.

"Holy Mobius, Bark," the flying squirrel gasped as he did a quick inspection of his friend's injuries, "we need to get you out of here."

"I'm fine, I've had worse," the polar bear grunted. "Did you get back in?"

"Every 'bot from here down to the first basement," said Ray. "Might be a few left down in second, but I think I've got most of them."

Bark looked at the remains of the fourth Eggrobo, and breathed a sigh of relief. The animal it was using as a battery was dazed, but alive.

"I got them to shoot out their own processors," Ray explained. "Wasn't easy, I had to rewrite a lot of programs in less than a heartbeat, but I did it."

"This is why I keep you 'round, Rayjay," Bark managed a pained grin. "_Freebird_?"

"On her way from exit-point position," said Ray. "S.P.'s up and ready for us."

"Great," said Bark, and he got to his feet. "If that means we don't have to worry about the Badniks anymore, I'm going to check the ground floor for the animals locked inside them."

Ray stared at him like he had just fallen out of a tree. "You're out of your tree, man!" he yelped shrilly. "You've got holes in you, and you smell like you should be on a plate with chips and salad garnish! You'll collapse any second!"

"Thanks, man, good to know I have your confidence," Bark fumed. "Just shut up and do it. And before you start worrying about me, worry about what I'll do to Sonic for going off the plan."

**xxx**

The building in which the Badnik processing plant was housed was not completely flat on top. Positioned in the dead centre of the roof was a tower that made the building look as if it had been impaled on an enormous needle. There was a satellite array installed around the perimeter of the topmost floor, used by His Imminent Genius to maintain communications with the computer-brain that ran the facility's operations. That was the idea, anyway.

Tails felt something about this whole operation was off, especially when one of the prisoners on the second basement level pointed out a key-pad on the wall that opened all the cells at once. The place was wholly automated, so there would be no need for analogue interaction of any kind, right? He should bring that up with the team, but now he was by himself, and being depended on to get the freed prisoners to the surface. Tails, of course, would never, ever, ever even dream of letting Sonic or the others down, so just to be on the safe side, he appointed some of the former prisoners to act as rear guard.

One of them, a rabbit, tore a length of pipe off a wall to use as a weapon, while another, a pig, readied himself with a small laser-pistol Tails had taken from a destroyed Badnik. Tails never was any good with the wretched things anyway; he had just taken it on impulse. It was better off with another animal.

"All right, people," he said after a quick head-count (twenty, not including himself), "follow me and stay close. My friends will definitely keep the Badniks away, so the path's going to be clear."

"Follow you?" someone snorted. "Look, we appreciate you getting us out, but you're like what, eight?"

"I'm fourteen!" Tails snapped indignantly, adjusting the jaunty beret he had brought along to make him look more roguish. "In three months," he added as an aside.

"Sorry, is that how they say thanks where you're from?" someone else asked the questioner. Tails looked up and saw the grey and white rabbit, who was almost nose-to-nose with an uppity squirrel. "You're free to wait back here for an adult if that's how you want it, mate, but anyone who fancies getting out is doing so because of this kid." He turned his clever, heavy-lidded eyes to their rescuer. "What's your name?"

"Everyone calls me Tails," said Tails.

"Johnny Lightfoot," the rabbit replied, "and I owe you my life, Tails."

"Come on, let's go," said Tails, feeling his confidence return.

**xxx**

Sonic did not allow those concerns to hold him back. Instead, he focussed on how to follow through with his bravado now that he had started down this path. He did not think about how Bark would get on his case about it, either. He was moving up the tower with such speed that if anyone possessed eyes that were superhuman enough to keep up with him, his body would look like it was hovering over a rapidly spinning figure-eight. The muscles in his slender legs were bunched tight like bundles of wires, carrying him up and up faster than the best-oiled machines, cycling incredible energy to rival the power grid of any one of the Metropolis Zone's great urban blocks. His surroundings were little more than blurs of flickering colours, and at this velocity it was only his instincts that kept him from smashing into something or somebody. In the early days, circumstances, and the likelihood of running face-first into them, had turned him into an itching ball of nerves, but now he could not imagine himself moving at a normal pace. He was Sonic the Hedgehog, and he was too cool for accidents, too cool for caution, too cool for normal.

Sonic skidded to a halt in front of a set of sliding double-doors, and just like before, a wave of blue excess energy shot out of him and dented them open. Squeezing through the gap, he went to the centre of the room and looked around him. He was on a grated, metal catwalk without safety rails, and the room around it was perfectly spherical, like one of those stunt-cages he had seen at a circus. It was illuminated by the lights of countless fluctuating monitors. He spotted no consoles, no power sockets or cables, just screens from top to bottom, and one other thing. A few feet in front of him along the catwalk was a huddled figure with two white horns curling out of its head.

"I take it you're the boss of this level?" the hedgehog sneered. The figure rose. He was a head or so taller than Sonic, dressed in a black outfit with lines of glowing trim. Armour plating was attached in a number of places so he looked more machine than animal, and silver cables trailed up from a pack on the back of his waist to his shoulder-blades.

"You could say that," said the figure in a low, flat voice. "The name's Dread Metal. You would be?"

"Sonic," the hedgehog replied, going into a dramatic pose, "the Hedgehog! I'm the fastest thing alive!"

"Sonic. I was expecting something more than a little boy," Dread Metal sighed, sounding genuinely disappointed. "Whatever. I'll have to settle on money for old rope."

"You're a mercenary," said Sonic. "Old walrus-chops must be getting desperate if he's started out-sourcing goons. 'Course, no robot he's ever made can match me. Too much going on up here." He tapped the side of his head with two fingers.

"Hardly," said Dread Metal, and that was that. The mercenary reached behind him and withdrew a long-nosed gun, which clicked into place on his right shoulder. The cross-hairs in his visor zeroed in on the hedgehog, but Sonic was already gone. Dread Metal felt the impact in his stomach before he saw the flash of blue, but he was made of sterner stuff than the average thug and stood his ground.

"Equaliser: hot shot mode," he said, and a thin plasma-bar on the side of the gun turned red. He pulled the trigger, and a gout of flames emerged from the weapon. Sonic could easily dodge the attack, but Dread Metal surprised him. The creature he initially took to just be an ordinary Mobian in a suit began to twirl in the middle. His feet remained grounded, but everything above his waist, including the weapon, was now swivelling around and around, becoming a cyclone of deadly heat. The hedgehog pressed the red button on his belt.

_**"Fire Shield on!"**_ he gave the vocal command, and a column of swirling crimson appeared, separating him from the awful flames by inches. The stream passed over him harmlessly, and he jumped into the air above Dread Metal. The shield dissipated just as he brought down his foot in an axe-kick on his opponent's skull. Dread Metal stumbled and the attack tapered out. Sonic dealt him another kick, a roundhouse to the back. The mercenary's top half twisted and he caught the hedgehog's leg in one gauntlet-clad paw. Sonic cried out in surprise as he was hurled into the wall and rolled down to the bottom, stunned.

He recovered his senses just in time to roll out of the way as Dread Metal's feet slammed into the floor beside him. The plasma screens of the monitors under and around the mercenary rippled from the impact. He managed a glancing blow on the hedgehog's arm, and Sonic guessed from the pain he felt that it would bruise nicely under his fur. The strike knocked off his balance, and he had to change his course to avoid tripping over his own feet. Dread Metal watched as Sonic zipped this way and that, circling the chamber. They traded blows for the next few minutes, Sonic's being numerous and random due to his speed, landing them before Dread Metal could conceivably defend himself, but the mercenary's, though fewer, were harsher, and he refused to be moved from his spot. A signal reached Dread Metal through the metal headset he wore, and he pulled back his fist as Sonic rushed straight towards him.

Time stood still as the opponents clashed. Sonic's fist crumpled Dread Metal's visor, sending cracks across its surface until it shattered, then pushed through to the forehead underneath. The mercenary's gauntleted paw unfurled two short, studded claws, cutting through the skin of the hedgehog's stomach. Both warriors, their expressions twisted in pain, stopped, and a blue energy burst hurled them apart. Dread Metal did not get up, and though dazed, Sonic could tell that their fight had taken its toll on their arena. Screens were fizzling, blacking out, melting, exploding, or a combination of all four. The fire would engulf the place soon enough. He may not have found the brainy gear, but it looked like he had done his job. He had to give the unconscious Dread Metal credit. He had been a challenge. It would be nice to go toe-to-toe with him again in the future. Holding one hand over his bleeding stomach, he staggered over to the mercenary. The acrid smoke in the air stung his eyes and throat.

"Hey," he choked out. No response. Sonic grimaced and tried to pull Dread Metal along by his horns, but he must have weighed at least a tonne! The walkie-talkie in his jacket pocket buzzed.

"Orange to Blue!" it crackled. "Orange to Blue, do you copy? Blue!"

"Easy, Orange, I'm here," he said. "What's going on? Over."

"We've got everyone out," said Tails. "Brown's here with _Freebird_, but we can't leave without you! What's going on? Over."

"Just making sure this place is out of commission permanently," said Sonic. A screen above his head erupted outwards. "I think I'm done. I'll be with you in two secs. Over and out." He stuffed the talkie back in his pocket and turned back to where he had left Dread Metal. He was gone. Sonic's eyes widened, then he squeezed them shut again as the smoke irritated them. No time to dwell on it. He needed to juice.

**xxx**

_Freebird_ was the call-sign for a small V.T.O.L. airship cannibalised from a dozen salvaged transport vessels. She was primarily dark green in colour, with four wings, elaborately finned twinned horizontal stabilisers, and a bubble canopy over the cockpit. She was hovering over the street outside the facility, as the escapees scrambled up the rope ladder that had been unfurled for them. Her pilot, and the genius who created her, was a certain Greasy Monkey, one of the first to join Bark the Polar Bear's Freedom Fighter cell. She had made the machine her pet project, as a way for the team to evacuate larger amounts of Mobian civilians. Although it was close to full capacity already, it was an improvement over their old methods, and it was her sincerest hope to eventually oversee the construction of many vehicles that would allow the myriad resistance cells spread out across the planet to even the playing field. Once the last escapee was aboard, Greasy radioed the van.

"You boys ready to make tracks? Over," she asked.

"Take off ahead, Brown," replied Tails. The fox had taken over the steering wheel while Ray applied first-aid to Bark's injuries. "We'll confirm Blue's exit and follow you from the ground. Over."

"Copy, but I wouldn't worry about waiting," said Greasy. The hedgehog dashed out of the plant milliseconds before it vanished in a plume of hellfire. The Freedom Fighters were ready to move out, however the explosion did not go unnoticed. A few streets away, Badnik police units gave chase. Eggrobos with their jet-packs deployed, accompanied by star-shaped Asterons, insectoid Buzzbombers and spherical Orbinauts pursued _Freebird_ in the air, while mantid Slicers, uni-wheeled Motobugs and crustacean Shellcrackers poured out of the alleyways to ensnare the van. Sonic eagerly smashed his way past these latter groups, clearing the path for his friends, while up above, Johnny Lightfoot, the pig, Porker Lewis, and two or three others used laser-line throwers to pick off the airborne robots.

"Sonic!" Bark called out of the van's front passenger window, before ripping off the face-plate of a Badnik that got too close and let it go careening blindly into two more. "Get a shift on! Make sure the Star Post is fully charged up! I don't want to have to wait in line with this lot when we get to it!"

"I already planned on it!" Sonic retorted, and disappeared in a blue pulse. Heart racing, legs pumping, head tilted forward, arms pulled back behind him, fists clenched, he tore towards the zone's warehouse district, where the security was under routine maintenance and down for several hours, allowing the Freedom Fighters to utilise it as their exit-point. Situated in the middle of a vacant lot between two of the warehouses was the Star Post, a silver pole with a thicker base that coned outwards lower to the ground, topped with a red orb marked with a jet black circle on opposite sides of its surface. Sonic approached the pole, then began to run in circles around it. Each circumvolution sent blue sparks along the ground and into the Star Post. Tendrils of light cracked and clapped inside the red orb, and white stars appeared within the black circles. Again and again he went, until the stars glowed brightly enough to illuminate the lot, and the surrounding streets. Sonic could spy the van and the airship approaching. The pole extended upwards to three times its original height, and tiny particles whizzed about inside the orb. The stars were dazzling to behold. The van tyres screeched towards him. The airship's motors roared overhead. The Badniks buzzed and hollered in outrage. Weapons screamed.

The light dissipated, and the Mobians were safe, enveloped by the peaceful eskers and sleepy meadows of the Green Hill Zone, many miles away from danger. Sonic breathed a sigh of relief, not that there was any doubt mind you, then he checked his watch and realised Ace's would be shutting in two minutes.

"See you later!" he yelled to nobody in particular, and he was gone.


	2. Turbo

**Act 2**

"**Turbo"**

* * *

**[**_"Sonic SatAM – Robotnik's Theme: Stratagem Remix"_ by ProudOne / _YouTube 2010_**]**

**xxx**

Doctor Ivo Robotnik did not live in any of the twenty-three zones that constituted his empire. Part of him saw such an existence as beneath him. He chose, instead, to live above it all, in a vast airborne fortress which, according to official classification methods laid down by international agreement some several hundred years before, was just large enough to qualify as a zone in and of itself. _Wing Fortress_ cruised through the atmosphere of planet Mobius like a predatory bird, letting all and sundry know that to look upon it was to look upon the firepower that made Robotnik the undisputed ruler of the world. It was stocked from end-to-end with weapons, equipment, laboratories, factories, radar, nerve-centres for the development of propaganda, information control and other general nastiness, an in-door entertainment centre the size of a supermarket where he could watch gaudy tributes to his glory, and even a private amusement park many sane Mobians would describe as nightmarish. It was staffed by the doctor's staple of Badniks and slaves who were one disappointment from being turned into Badniks. The technology of Mobius, such as it was, ran on energy derived from golden, ring-shaped artefacts that would pop out of thin air all over the landscape for no apparent reason. Robotnik, on the other hand, burnt fossil fuels in a great big furnace just so he could pour suffocating clouds of pollution into the air, giving the impression that, if he truly wished it, he could blot out the sun and terminate all life in a single fell swoop. He was, it must be said, completely and irrevocably evil.

His throne room was situated at the very heart of the monstrosity, and it was from here that he oversaw everything that happened within the cold, artificial walls. A robot could not spit oil without his knowing. An organic could not complain to himself about his lot in life, without the opportunity for an incriminating recording. Few saw Robotnik face-to-face. The majority of those under his heels hoped they never would. He was a creature whose species was totally unknown to the people of Mobius. Theorists had drawn comparisons between him and the simian families, but none who lived outside the empire took the implication that they could have produced such a loathsome villain as anything except a direct insult to their honour. He had a pink, furless head with a narrow, beak-like nose, a furious ginger moustache, and eyes like darkest obsidian. Those eyes were never seen to hold anything but sheer, unbridled contempt for any inferior being that dared to stand before him. His mouth was a wide scar cut into the doughy lower part of his face, lined with two rows of sharp, metallic teeth. The back of his head and neck had curved armour plates bolted all the way through to the bone, and tiny cables hooked him into his control chair, every few seconds twitching themselves free of the sockets of their own volition and reattaching elsewhere. A red and gold coat with disproportionately enhanced sleeves and shoulder-pads hung over a black, reflective suit that covered him from his neck down to the ends of his wrists and ankles. His gloves and boots were made of firmly coiled steel.

He was not mad to have lost processing plant one-epsilon-four. No, no, not mad at all. He had been banking on the Freedom Fighters launching their raid on it. You see, a single group of four-footed beasts meant little to him, but if one resistance cell existed, others would eventually rise to oppose him as well. This would, in the long run, become problematic for him. Even more troublesome was that this particular cell attributed their latest rash of victories to the deployment of a single weapon of incredible power. A weapon he would need to analyse and improve upon, not only to once more attain supremacy but to prove to these dirty creatures that anything they had, Ivo Robotnik could build it better! He knew this weapon's name, but obtaining further information had been difficult, but then he had an idea. Opening a brand new Badnik processing plant in the Metropolis Zone had been his way of luring the Freedom Fighters into the open. He had made it easy to get through its defences, even built a fake patch that made its operational systems look tougher than they really were, and they had fallen for it entirely. This next bit is where it gets really clever, if the doctor told you himself (and you would be obliged to agree with him). He built a room in the tower and filled it with sensitive touch-screens that would scan the weapon and provide him with a perfect three-dimensional template and intricate schematics, and stationed the mercenary Dread Metal in it to keep the weapon and its wielder until the model was complete, after which he remotely detonated the facility, allowing the Freedom Fighters to believe themselves responsible. He was surprised by the result. He had expected a machine of some kind, one that could scramble electronics and disrupt Badnik functions, but instead what he got was a wire-grid image of a boy. A hedgehog, to be precise, and one whose speed and agility was unlike anything in recorded history. He would be lying if he said he was not more than a touch intrigued. Why, there was something almost paranormal about such a beast. Its unusual colour, the formation of its quills, the way it could manipulate its movement when flying around at high velocities whilst curled up, or just the fact it had kicked seven bells out of Dread Metal, who had not been acting during their confrontation. He greatly desired to find, capture and dissect it. He rather doubted any Badnik's shell could contain the animal, but that would not be necessary. He would carry on with his initial plan, and then it would become obsolete as an organic battery.

"Computer," he said. "Access vault C.E.2. First tier passcode…"

"All passcodes accepted," a modulated voice rang out after Robotnik had finished the seventh sequence. "Voice pattern match. Brainwave pattern match. Vault C.E.2 has been accessed."

"Retrieve contents," said Robotnik.

A mechanical tentacle descended from the ceiling towards him, clutching a small, locked box in its claws. Robotnik reached up and took the box, unlocked it, and cracked the lid. The object inside pulsated brilliantly, and the tyrant smiled. The corners of his mouth reached as high as the metal nubs that used to be his ears. He finally had a use for his treasure, which had been sealed since the day he stole it so long ago. With another command, his chair detached from its stand and hovered in mid-air. It turned and floated towards his laboratory. He had a brand new project to be getting on with, and for a few days, perhaps those unfortunate enough to be trapped aboard the _Wing Fortress_ could enjoy the luxury of not being watched. Between you and I, however, it was highly unlikely they would even realise anything had changed.

**xxx**

It was three days since the breakout in the Metropolis Zone.

Miles 'Tails' Prower had been warned to keep his status as a Freedom Fighter a closely guarded secret. That entailed looking as normal as possible, including going to school so as not to rouse any suspicion. He was a bright student, good in his classes, but afflicted with what his teachers called a, "Troubling hesitance to apply himself." It was their way of saying he was too bored with school to act like it mattered. Frankly, they were spot on. Tails was not an avid reader, he found overtly convoluted calculations unappealing, he preferred visiting other zones with his friends rather than trawling through lengthy passages about what kind of rocks were there, curricular science was mundane and suburban compared to an evening in Greasy Monkey's workshop, and history was boiled down to a list of the same names and dates every week. The education system had systematically cut away anything that might hold his attention with a scalpel, and replaced it with a nice, safe checklist. He used to enjoy P.E., but even that had lost its charm when he understood that half his time was spent lining up outside the changing rooms.

The teacher's voice had become a humming drone. The last thing he heard was something about the square of the hippopotamus, or was it the significance of the rubber thingy under the pie shelf? He stifled a yawn behind his palm, and his eyes drifted to the classroom window. The school stood halfway up the side of a cliff, surrounded by the beautiful seaside promenade with its hotels, restaurants and amusements, and from the window he could peer out across the waters of the Emerald Coast. A mile or so out to sea was an island, and on the island was the home of Sonic the Hedgehog. Tails could not wait for the bell to ring, so he could go over and visit. He wondered what it must be like to be Sonic. Never go to school, live on his own island, and just do whatever he wanted all day, every day. His attention was drawn to the clock on the wall above the whiteboard. Twenty-five minutes to go. He spent the rest of the lesson staring at it, mentally willing the clock's hands to spin forward. A brief moment of teenage insanity told him that striking the right time would cause the bell to ring. The rational part of his mind took back control not long into this exercise, and told him to do what everyone else was, which was pretending to read his text-book. Everyone except Amy Rose, the pink-furred girl at the far side of the room, who seemed preoccupied with tying weird charms in her quills and was promptly caught and made to stand in the hallway. Tails thought that this close to the end of the day, she probably took that opportunity to run for it and to hell with the consequences. It was exactly what he wanted to do, after all.

That last half-hour felt like an eternity, but the oppressiveness of the day seemed to melt off of Tails as he emerged into the glorious sunshine and the salty sea-breeze. He stuffed his school jumper in his rucksack and loosened his tie, all while dashing across the school-grounds and nearly tripping up several times. Unfurling his twin tails, he braided them together as tight as he could, then let them come undone by themselves. They did so at such incredible speed that they became like the blades of a helicopter, lifting him into the air. With his feet firmly off the ground, Tails turned himself towards the sea and headed out across the water. A few people who saw him pointed and talked actively about it. After all, a flying fox is not something you see every day, now is it? One silly little muppet of an animal tried to hit him with a stone but missed. Tails yelled something rude at the thrower and carried on. A second stone whizzed close by his ear, but Tails caught this one in his outstretched palm, hurled it back with all his strength, then flew off faster before he could see if it had hit.

Tails hated bullies. It royally bristled his brushes to have to deal with idiots on a daily basis who had no idea he was part of the one rogue element keeping Green Hill among the Free Zones of Mobius. His history with them, however, need not to be described at present.

He touched down on the beach, tails kicking up sand as they unwound to a stop. There was no sign of Sonic, but he could see the roof of a villa a little way down the shore, hemmed in by palm trees. He walked the rest of the way so he could take his time enjoying the scenery. It was quite idyllic, with its canopy of lush palm leaves, the beautiful scent of tropical flowers, the twittering of songbirds, the gurgling babble of the river that cut through the island from west to east, the water dancing in ever-changing shapes as it coursed around smooth stones on the bed, not to mention the constant audible whoosh of the breakers against the warm, white shore. Completely removed from the drab awfulness of Robotnik's dictatorship. He found a couple of freshly fallen coconuts and stuck them in his rucksack.

The sight of the villa always filled Tails with a kind of awe. Green Hill folk homes were fashioned around the enormous trees that grew there, or else were solitary cottages. Occasionally, you would find industrious Mobians recycling Robotnik's rubbish by taking parts from larger Badniks to replace the structures that had been lost or damaged. The villa, in another testament to its owner's pathological difference, had been built from the ground up by a former resident of the isle, and Sonic had apparently lived there by himself for as long as he could remember. Tails had trouble imagining a little kid being on his own like that, but the hedgehog seemed well-adjusted enough. Tails found the front doors wide open and hesitantly went in. He checked the spacious but messy living room, the pantry that was always empty, the bedrooms, the bathrooms (including the one with the king-sized Jacuzzi), even the unused studies and libraries that had become breeding grounds for dust-mites. There was little by way of trophies, portraits, statues or anything else you might find characteristic of such a grand house, and Tails had long been of the opinion that it was only used for the games consoles and as shelter from the rain. He finally thought to check the roof, and took the spiralling staircase.

Sonic was reclining in a deck-chair, wearing sunglasses and holding up a foldable tanning mirror. A bottle of sun tan lotion lay on its side under the chair, and beside him was an ice-box full of drinks.

"Sonic?" Tails squeaked. The hedgehog put the mirror down and lowered the glasses.

"Hey, buddy," he said, "what's going on?"

"Well, Bark's still out for your blood," said Tails. "He's furious about the Metropolis job." Bark was surprisingly unaware of the island, you see. He spent so much time visiting other zones to fight Robotnik's tyranny that he almost ignored Green Hill and its neighbours, and he was old enough to not have to go to school so he never visited the seafront. "Ray said he headed to the fringes of the Scrap Brain Zone to do a bit of art so he could calm down."

"Scrap Brain Zone," Sonic chuckled. "I tell you, mate, Robotnik needs to put together a better creative team. I mean, come on, what does that even mean?"

"Just takes a glimpse at half the Badnik names to see that. Ray reckons it's the robot who runs the place," said Tails, "or at least what everyone calls it."

"Named a zone after itself?" Sonic scoffed. "Boy, someone even more up their own backside than Doctor Blobnik. I'm almost impressed. Almost. Anything else?"

"Two of the animals we freed have signed up," said Tails. "Johnny Lightfoot and Porker Lewis."

"Past cool. I should meet them sometime," said Sonic. "You know, let them bask in my heroic and inspiring aura for a bit." He stopped and sniffed the air, not noticing the fox's eyes rolling. "Got something in the bag, kid?"

"Oh, yeah," said Tails, and took out the two coconuts. "I grabbed these off the beach on the way up. I think they're fresh."

"Well, what are you waiting for, an invitation?" replied Sonic. "Bring them over, bud. Let's crack those suckers wide open!"

"Sure, Sonic, but after we're done here, do you mind coming with me? Greasy and I finally finished what we were working on, we just didn't get a chance to show you before we left for Metropolis. I think you'll like it."

"Sounds good, kid. I was getting bored with this scene anyhow."

**xxx**

The Prower family owned a modest airfield in one of the flatter regions of the Green Hill Zone. It contained three hangars, a repair shop and a single-storey, red-brick office building. Their house was a twenty-minute walk away on a rise the locals had aptly dubbed Airfield Hill. Tails' uncle Al had taken over the business from his late brother when he was granted custody of the boy, and continued running it as a cargo freight service. Sonic and Tails arrived just as one of their pilots touched down in a magnificent yellow 'plane with an orange nose and three lightning bolts connected at the ends to form the image of a three-bladed propeller painted on both fuselages. The two boys watched with big grins on their faces as the pilot, a big fox with a heroic chin and smiling eyes, tugged down his scarf and pulled his flight goggles up on his forehead.

"Cousin Elroy!" Tails called from the ground.

"Hey, if it isn't the squirt," Cousin Elroy beamed and clambered out of the cockpit. "It's been ages, Tails!"

"Dude, even your cousin calls you that?" asked Sonic.

"I prefer it that way," said Tails. "I lost count of all the jokes people made about how many _miles per hour_ I could fly."

"Oh!" Sonic said with a nod as understanding dawned. "Cool."

"Is that _Squall_?" Tails asked, turning his attention back to the tall figure of Cousin Elroy, who was wearing a brown bomber jacket with a woolly collar and thick, grey gloves. "She looks great!"

"Ah! Fresh lick of paint and a new propeller do wonders, kidda," said Elroy, patting the side of his 'plane. He suddenly picked up Tails in one arm as if he weighed nothing. Tails protested that he was too old for that, and Elroy told him to pipe down and enjoy the free ride before stuffing his flight cap over the smaller fox's head. Sonic was not entirely sure how to feel. He liked being the centre of attention, but he seemed to have gone completely unnoticed.

"Come on," said Elroy, "I need to see my dad about something, then I'll tell you everything about my last trip."

"Great!" said Tails. "First though, Cousin Elroy, this is Sonic. He's my best friend."

Elroy grunted quizzically, then looked down. His eyes widened. "Oh! Sorry, mate, didn't see you down there! Like the look, by the way! Full body-dye and body mods, I'm guessing?"

"Sure, why not?" shrugged Sonic, doubting the fox would believe how he really came to attain his unique fur colour and quill fusions.

"And here I thought you had to be eighteen," said Elroy. "Ah, well, I'm not the law, so no worries. Here, what's the job like?"

"Job?"

"Keeping my baby cousin here out of trouble," said Elroy, playfully jabbing Tails in the stomach. Tails protested again, but this time between laughs.

"Full time and rubbish pay," Sonic smirked. He liked this Cousin Elroy character. He did not seem the type to care what people thought of him, what he had to say, or how loudly he said it (which was very loud). Sonic could respect that. Also, he thought that being a pilot just had to be, like, the coolest thing ever. Tails convinced Cousin Elroy to bring Uncle Al and Auntie Lydia to hangar two, insisting that they would appreciate what he had to show them even more than Sonic. The four of them gathered outside while Tails went in through the back door. Uncle Al, a plump but tough-looking soul in oil-stained overalls, crossed his arms over his chest and looked more expectant than bewildered, as the others were.

"Hey, Uncle Al," said Sonic, "you know anything about this?"

"Yeah, Dad," Cousin Elroy put in, "what's the kid been up to while I've been away?"

"Wait and see, boys," replied Uncle Al.

The hangar door opened, and something rolled out onto the airstrip.

**xxx**

**[**_"Believe In Myself" _by Karen Brake / _Sonic Adventure 1998_**]**

**xxx**

Tails sat in the cockpit of a sleek, crimson biplane. The wings were red on top with yellow stripes painted on, and white on the sides and underneath. Yellow-and-orange flame designs decorated the front end of her fuselage. A white bar divided the tail-plane into three sections, and in the middle of the bar on either side was an image of two wavy fox tails inside a blue circle ringed with gold. Two curved bits of metal were bolted into place on the very top. Underlined in white on her flank was her name, in a cursive and elegant font: _'Prower TORNADO Special.'_

"What do you all think?" asked Tails over the roar of the engine. He had already donned a cap, goggles and scarf like Cousin Elroy's, only his were a better fit.

Auntie Lydia picked her jaw up off the ground. "You mended your father's 'plane!" she gawked. "Miles, she's absolutely gorgeous!" Cousin Elroy got over his own shock and started clapping and cheering.

"Didn't just mend it, Auntie Lydia!" said Tails. "She's even better than ever! Faster, sleeker, stronger! She's a whole new set of wings!"

"Your dad would be proud of you, m'boy!" exclaimed Uncle Al. "I could never get her to cooperate when I tried fixing her, so you're officially a better mechanic than me!"

"Well, I had some help from a friend," said Tails, but he was drowned out.

"It's awesome, Tails!" cried Sonic, and quick as a flash, he hopped up onto the top wings and slid his feet under the curved bits, which he realised were footholds. "Come on, let's take her for a spin, buddy!"

"Is that okay, Uncle Al?" Tails called.

"You put her back together, kidda! It'd be a shame not to take her up!" was the response.

"Just be careful, you pair!" Auntie Lydia chimed in.

"Don't you worry about us, Missus P.," Sonic grinned, confidently thumbing the edge of his nose. The three Prowers started cheering as loud as they could as the _TORNADO Special_ rolled down the airstrip, picking up speed until, with a great whoosh of strength, she was airborne. Sonic hollered at the top of his lungs as the wind whipped at him. He spread his arms out and his jacket billowed behind him like a cape. _**"YEEEEHAAAAW!"**_

The 'plane swooped and swerved, it twisted and twirled, dancing through the clouds like a fiery angel. She rolled sideways and went into a loop, and Sonic was amazed at how deftly Tails handled her, but the truth was that Tails had been learning all his life. Instead of picture books, cartoons and tea cup rides, he had grown up reading books on aviation, watching documentaries on aeronautics and going up in all kinds of swift and experimental machines, belted securely against his father, who showed him first-hand how to operate them. He had gone solo for the first time when he was eleven, in a small one-animal autogyro, and it had only gotten better from there. He felt the constant, gentle hum of the fuel lines under his feet, transferring ring energy to and from the engine and circulating it throughout the _TORNADO_, filling every inch of her.

They were cruising when they saw a dark blot above the cloud-line.

"Sonic, I've got something on the radar," said Tails.

"I see it," replied the hedgehog, putting a hand over his brow and peering at the blot. "No idea what it is, but I think it's coming right towards – _**ARGH!**_" Sonic was cut off as something zipped past him, and he was forced to duck to avoid it taking his head off. The thing's vapour trail shimmered in the air and made the tips of his quills tremble.

"What was that!?" they chorused. The thing stopped in mid-air, and turned around to attack once again.

**xxx**

**[**_"Metallic Madness: Past" _by Naofumi Hataya / _Sonic C.D. 1993_**]**

**xxx**

"Whatever it is, it can shift," said Sonic, straightening up. "Never tried an aerial battle. Think you can handle it, Tails?"

"I'll do my best, Sonic," said Tails, although he was far from convinced.

"Good, because here he comes!" Sonic yelled, and did a backflip. The thing passed under him, shaving the tips off several spikes. Sonic landed at the end of one of the 'plane's top wings and windmilled his arms to regain his balance. "All right, show-off!" he yelled at the streaking attacker. "Pretty impressive, but how about you show me your face so I know who I'm about to turn into a stain on the ground!"

Tails tried to warn Sonic of the impending third attempt by the assailant, but it tackled the hedgehog over before the words even left his throat. Sonic grunted and got unsteadily to his feet, mindful that there was nothing for him to hold on to. He turned around, and there was his opponent. It was unlike any Badnik he had ever seen before, because it looked like him. Mechanical and pure evil, but close enough. The machine was covered in polished blue, with a gold ring in the middle of its torso and a propulsion engine under its upper back spikes. Its hands were silver and clawed, and its segmented feet were red, to match his trainers. It had no mouth, but its nose was a deadly, serrated blade. More spikes jutted from its forearms and shoulders. Scarlet eyes glared out at him from behind a black visor.

"And what kind of 'bot are you supposed to be?" Sonic sneered, covering the fact he found the thing a little unsettling. "Because, I have to tell you, I think I wear my look better than you do."

The metal hedgehog let out a series of electronic beeps.

"Um. Say again? I don't speak dial-up."

"Sonic, what's going on up there?" Tails called. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, Tails," the hedgehog replied. "I've got this under control."

"Confirmation: vocal pattern data downloaded," the machine said in the hedgehog's own voice. "Answer to previous relevant question: I am Turbo the Metal Sonic. My function is the elimination of Freedom Fighter super-weapon codenamed, 'Sonic'."

"Hey! I'm nobody's weapon, scrap brain!" snapped Sonic. "I don't need anyone to tell me to smash you just like any other of Robotnik's toys!"

"Confirmation: pattern integrated into positronic brain's vocaliser circuit," said the robot. It stood up straight, thumbed its nose, and pointed challengingly at Sonic. "I'd love to see you try, punk."

"Fine with me. I was getting bored of all your talking, bucket-head!" Sonic growled, and charged at Turbo. The machine gracefully somersaulted into the air, landed behind Sonic, then span a kick into his back. Sonic slid off the edge of the wing, passed the supporting pole, and caught hold of the lower wing's edge. Tails yelled in horror.

"I'm fine, Tails!" said Sonic, pulling himself up.

"Are you, though?" asked Tails.

"Look, it's no problem," Sonic assured him. "I just need a little time to work out his weak point. Can you help me buy some time?"

"I got it," said Tails with a nod. "I did more than just repaint this thing, you know. Greasy and I loaded her with all the mod cons."

"Trying to run, furry?" snarled Turbo the Metal Sonic, apparently materialising behind the real one. Tails, seeing him for the first time, gaped in wide-eyed shock. Sonic used the supporting pole to swing out of the robot's reach.

"Eat this, you bionic bully!" cried Tails, snapping back to his senses. He pulled a crank on the instrument panel. A section opened in the side of the _Prower TORNADO Special_. "Sonic! Get down!" Tails yelled, and he did, just as a spray of iron balls flew out and peppered Turbo all over. "How'd you like my spread gun?" The metal hedgehog tried to orientate himself, but was not quite quick enough to avoid Sonic kicking his legs out from under him. Turbo powered up his propulsion engine and flew away as the spread gun traced him clumsily through the air. Its ammunition ran out quickly, however. Tails swore under his breath.

"It's okay. I think you spooked him a bit," said Sonic. "Well done, man. I'm going to see if I can get him with a Homing Attack. Be ready to catch me and the animal trapped inside him, okay?" Tails nodded his agreement. Sonic swung up onto the top wings, bounced off and curled into his many-pointed spherical form. _**"Sonic Homing Attack!"**_ The hedgehog whooshed towards Turbo, slamming off his midsection, but then he stopped. Although the front of Turbo's torso was very visibly damaged, he had reacted by moving his paws to encircle Sonic. The air around them both seemed to be waving, as if through steam. Sonic was trapped in mid-air, and he was slowing down.

"Engaging high-friction field," said Turbo, "maximum density. Excess kinetic energy will now be dispersed."

Sonic stopped completely, and energy shot out of him in a single upward stream instead of the omniversal waves he normally generated, and faded out in the stratosphere. He struggled to move, to raise his fists, but he was caught. The invisible field held him like sticky sap. Turbo relinquished his prisoner, and Sonic began to fall, only to be sent hurtling upwards by a piston-driven punch to his solar plexus. Turbo powered up his engine and followed.

"Your speed is nothing compared to mine, hedgehog!" the robot declared. "I can move twice as fast as you with a fraction of the energy expenditure! Doctor Robotnik has engineered me to be your superior in every way!"

Sonic had to admit, not aloud mind you, that his counterpart was much faster than him. He could barely register that Turbo was hitting him until he felt the stings. He was having trouble breathing, but his frenzied mind could not tell if it was because the air was thinner at this altitude, or if it was because his ribs were broken, which they most certainly were. Finally, Turbo eased up enough for Sonic to begin falling again. Adrenaline surged through him, numbing him to the point of mania, and when Turbo appeared above him, he reacted purely on instinct and grabbed the robot's ankle.

"You have my speed, faker," he slurred, "but not my smarts." His free hand went to a button on his belt. _**"Fire Shield on!"**_ Blazing heat rolled off the hedgehog's body, and he punched a burning fist straight through Turbo's side. His paw wrapped around something and pulled. He was not very mechanically inclined, but it looked important. Oil squirted out and sizzled out against the shield. Turbo let out an electronic shriek as the heat melted his leg, and Sonic fell, still holding the severed foot as the shield tapered out. Turbo held one paw over his wound. His engine sputtered, and Sonic could see puffs of black smoke.

The _TORNADO Special_ swooped beneath Sonic, who landed in the co-pilot's seat behind Tails.

"Tails," said Sonic between gasps, "that robot…he's no Badnik."

"What do you mean?" Tails replied.

"I put my fist in pretty deep just now," said Sonic, and held up the lump he had ripped from Turbo's guts. "Judging by the smoke, I got part of what's keeping him up here, but I didn't feel a containment cell. There was something else."

All Badniks used special cells inside their bodies, filled with oxygenated slime, to keep their organic batteries alive for as long as possible. Nobody was quite sure how the process worked, but it seemed to have been implemented simply to further oppress the downtrodden and the enslaved. Robotnik, after all, had access to other unpleasant methods of powering his abominations. Given the size of the average Mobian compared to the average Badnik, one should feel the smooth, icy surface of the cell after breaking through the metal outer casing, and so you may well understand why Sonic found the lack of one unsettling.

"We need to get you to a hospital," said Tails. "I can hear it in your voice. You're hurt bad. We can escape while that monster compensates for you tearing out half his flight kit."

"Tails," Sonic coughed, "he'll just chase us down."

"No, he won't," said the fox sternly. "I've got just the thing."

He pulled another lever on the instrument panel. The 'plane's nose dipped down and she began her descent. Two stubby pipes sprouted from her tail, emitting streams of glittery, emerald green dust. The streams engulfed Turbo, who was more fixated on his objective than the terrible damage to his systems. Tiny, white, glittering stars flew in and out, confusing his optic sensor array before gluing themselves over his face, in his ears, in his engine, covering him in a dense blanket of light. His jets sputtered futilely, and he fell. He fell straight through the mist, crashed onto the _TORNADO Special_, and clung to the side. He swiped blindly, opening a hole in the sleeve of Sonic's jacket.

_**"Lightning Shield on!" **_Sonic cried, and pushed the full force of the force-field into Turbo's metal forehead. There was a small explosion, denting the impact spot inwards, and Turbo slipped out of sight.

"Do you think he's gone, Sonic?" Tails called back over his shoulder. The hedgehog said nothing. He had lost consciousness.

**xxx**

Auntie Lydia was a trained nurse. It helped to have some knowledge of medicine when her family were constantly suffering knocks, bumps and burns at work. When her nephew landed the _TORNADO Special_ on the airstrip, its formerly fresh appearance now dinged and scratched, she had rushed over to see if he was all right. She had carried Sonic, with the help of her husband and son, into the red-brick office building, which contained a small infirmary, and immediately began to check him over. Tails, overcome with shock, was sitting on a chair in a corner and taking deep breaths from an oxygen mask while he waited for his heart to return to something resembling an ordinary beat-per-minute rate. Cousin Elroy was trying to get him to explain what in the name of Mobius had happened up there.

A sudden and surprising burst of force, accompanied by a blinding flash of light, smashed open a hole in the wall, peppering the room and its occupants with debris. The Prower family stared at the metal horror standing, or rather wobbling, before them. Oddly coloured vapours were rising from the black hollow in its torso. Its single functioning eye was narrowed with mechanical anger.

Turbo the Metal Sonic was far from finished. His voice was badly distorted by his broken vocaliser circuit, but the intent was clear. "Give. Me. That. Hedgehog."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Albert "Uncle Al" Prower is named after Albert Ball _(1896-1917)_, a British Royal Flying Corps air ace who fought during the First World War and to this day remains the fourth highest scoring pilot in the organisation's history with 44 solo victories.

Similarly, Lydia "Auntie Lydia" Prower is named after Lydia Litvyak _(1921-1943)_, a Russian pilot who flew for the U.S.S.R. in the Second World War. She scored twelve solo victories and participated in a number of group ones. She also holds the distinction of being among a handful of true female aces.

Last of all, "Cousin" Elroy Prower is named after Captain George McElroy _(1893-1918)_, who served at the same time as Ball in both the R.F.C. and its successor organisation, the Royal Air Force, and holds their third highest score of 47 solo victories.

The bright colours used for Cousin Elroy's _Squall_ are based closely on the Tornado Racer from _Sonic & SEGA All-Star Racing (2010)_, while the _Prower TORNADO Special_ includes visual aspects from several of its game incarnations but most prominently resembles its original design, as it was seen in _Sonic the Hedgehog 2 (1992)_.


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